The Tibetan age of political fragmentation, aspects of which were surveyed in
part 2, was accompanied, in some circles at least, by considerable nostalgia for the glory days of the Tibetan empire. The strength of Tibet, the wealth and refinement of its court, the achievements of its translators and scholars—all these and more seemed to have been lost or debased following the collapse of the Tsenpos’ dynasty. One result, beginning in the eleventh and twelfth centuries and culminating in the fourteenth, was an increasingly mythical view of the past, and the composition of ever more elaborate compilations of the legends of the great figures of ancient Tibet: Emperor Songtsen Gampo and Princess Wencheng; the Tsenpo Tri Songdetsen and the Indian teachers
Śāntarak
ṣita and Padmasambhava; Relpachen and his successor, the evil apostate Lang Darma. In the literature devoted to them, they were no longer quite viewed as mortals, but as the manifestations of bodhisattvas or, in the case of Lang Darma and certain others, heinous demons.
The development of the narratives of ancient Tibet merits comparison in many respects with that of the Arthurian tales of medieval Europe. Stories recounting past legends served also as models for the present, conferring instruction in the values of refined and courtly life and in the royal ideals that might yet serve to guide a civilization. As such, the literature consecrated to the old Tibetan empire oriented its readers to the future no less than the past; it revealed the destiny of Tibet, and those who sought to rule derived much guidance from it. Hence, this first chapter of
part 3 begins with extracts from some of the important books of legends, recalling that the ideals delineated within them formed important aspects of the thinking of those who, throughout the thirteenth through sixteenth centuries, and with the rise of the Ganden regime in the seventeenth, would seek to reassemble the fragments and rule a reunified Tibet. The glowing image of Tibet’s past thus became a beacon for its future.
In the chapters that follow in this section, we will also examine the emergence of properly historical writing during this period. Subsequent chapters are consecrated to religious and literary developments, views of dying and death, and the growth of the arts. If this period did not fully succeed in recapturing the glories of the Tibetan empire, it was nevertheless remarkably successful in its own, distinctive culture-building project. Indeed, in many areas of activity, including philosophy, poetry, and painting, the great achievements of the thirteenth through sixteenth centuries offered enduring models for the civilization of Tibet. MTK
Tibetan Buddhism incorporates numerous deities, but few are as beloved as Avalokiteśvara, the bodhisattva of compassion. His image is found in every Tibetan temple, and the sound of his mantra, Oṃ maṇi padme hūṃ, can be heard wherever Tibetan worship. Avalokiteśvara, in Tibetan mythology, has taken a solemn vow to protect and nurture the unruly Tibetan people, and Tibetans have responded to this dedication with centuries of devotion.
Dating to the twelfth century, The Testament Drawn from a Pillar, from which the following passage is taken, is one of the earliest known documents to chronicle this special relationship between Avalokiteśvara and Tibet. The text narrates the seventh-century construction of the Jokhang Temple in Lhasa by the king Songtsen Gampo. Many of the key figures, including the king, are held to be manifestations of Avalokiteśvara, giving the bodhisattva a directing role in Tibet’s gradual conversion to Buddhism. The passage excerpted here is located at the beginning of the testament, before the bodhisattva’s work has truly begun. It recounts Avalokiteśvara’s discussions about Tibet with both the Buddha Śākyamuni and the Buddha Amitābha. These conversations reveal both the potential difficulties of spreading the Dharma in Tibet and Avalokiteśvara’s great determination to do just that. GB
At that time, there were sounds and precious substances in the sky as the bodhisattva Avalokiteśvara appeared and sat upright before the conqueror [the Buddha]. The bodhisattvas in the conqueror’s retinue thought, “You are one endowed with wondrous signs!” Thinking, “We are also bodhisattvas who abide on the bodhisattva stages,” the bodhisattvas in the retinue did not prostrate to Avalokiteśvara. This pleased Avalokiteśvara.
Then Avalokite
śvara said to the conqueror
Śākyamuni, “Your intention, conqueror, is still not complete. The wheel of Dharma has not been turned for those beings of the Land of Snows.”
The conqueror replied, “Those beings born in the Land of Snows are very difficult to tame. Moreover, ripening them is impossible. Therefore, in a future time a bodhisattva, such as yourself, will ripen them.”
Then Avalokiteśvara said to Śākyamuni, “Respected conqueror, the tathāgata Amitābha resides in the pure land Great Bliss in the west. Having understood and foreseen that you will pass beyond suffering [die], he prays that you will not pass beyond suffering! Please don’t pass beyond suffering!”
The conqueror said, “Except as it concerns my students Küntugyu Rapzang and Driza Rapga, my activity is complete. Therefore, now is the time to encourage lazy people in the Dharma. In order to teach that everything is impermanent, I will demonstrate passing beyond suffering.”
Avalokiteśvara prayed, “That may be the case, but your feet have not touched down in that northern Land of Snows, and the light of your speech has not spread there.”
The conqueror said, “Those beings over there, born in the Land of Snows, are not disciples of the tathāgata. Since they are in the dense darkness of night after a previous low birth, they have been born in the world of lowborn humans. At death, not a single one turned around and went up. Like snow falling on a lake, they all transmigrated to low states. In the future, a bodhisattva like you will turn them into disciples.’”
Then Avalokiteśvara disappeared from the Jetavana Grove and appeared in the pure land Great Bliss, where he repeated Śākyamuni’s words to the tathāgata Amitābha: “Śākyamuni said, ‘Those beings born in the Land of Snows are not my disciples; in the future, one like you will turn them into disciples.”‘
Tathāgata Amitābha said, “Son of good family, in the future, those beings born in the Land of Snows will be exceedingly difficult to tame. As soon as those beings born there die, they go on to a low birth. They go straight down to Avīci Hell, where it is like being covered in the casket of an iron house. Your emanations must destroy that casket, then you will be able to truly tame them. First, gather them through material things. Second, liberate those whose stream of consciousness has been ripened by the Dharma. Finally, lead them before me in this buddha field, the pure land Great Bliss. As for me, I will tame them and be the friend who removes them from low states.”
[Srong btsan sgam po (attr.), Bka’ chems ka khol ma (Lanzhou: Kan su’i mi rigs dpe skrun khang, 1989), 17–20. Trans. GB.]
This narrative of Gyelt history is one of the most important texts in the long tradition of Tibetan historiography. It was written by one of the great intellectuals of the fourteenth century, Sönam Gyeltsen (1312–75), a scion of the Sakya family and abbot of Sakya monastery from 1343 to 1347. As leader of the monastery, which ruled Tibet until 1350, he was in a unique position in this crucial period. The Mongol power that had elevated the Sakya religious tradition and family as rulers of Tibet had dramatically declined by this point (the Mongol Yuan dynasty would retreat from Beijing in 1368). Sakya power in Tibet was also weakened, and one of the formerly subordinate families (and traditions), that of the Pakmodru, led by Jangchup Gyeltsen, took control in 1350 and was recognized with the award of the title Tai Situ by the Mongol court in 1354. However, Sönam Gyeltsen had been the religious teacher of Jangchup Gyeltsen, the challenger to his family and religious tradition’s rule of Tibet, and seems to have maintained his student’s respect, which may explain why Sakya estates and prerogatives were not entirely dismantled at this time. Instead, there almost seems to have been a congruence of interests, as Sönam Gyeltsen’s narrative very much reinforced the Pakmodru efforts to revive imperial Tibetan traditions.
The Clear Mirror is a history of the Tibetan imperial period that grafts a Buddhist perspective onto the sparse historical details that survived the disintegration of the empire. The chapter selected here concerns the first ruler of the Tibetan empire, Songtsen Gampo, and the Buddhist overlay of his status as an emanation of Avalokiteśvara onto his position as founding figure of Tibetan civilization. As can be seen from the early records of the empire in this volume, no contemporary source from the period indicates any association of the emperor or his wives with any Buddhist divinity. Such identifications are later additions from popular and legendary sources, like the twelfth-century Testament Drawn from a Pillar or the Maṇi Kabum. Moreover, the addition of a Nepalese wife for Songtsen Gampo has sometimes been thought to be a postimperial invention, possibly emphasized here to offset the overwhelming Chinese influences (on art, historiography, clothing materials and styles, canon formation, book printing, and so forth) that accompanied the Mongol occupation of Tibet. (Despite these reservations, it is nevertheless clear that connections with Nepal were of some importance for Tibet under Songtsen Gampo’s rule.) At the same time, the Chinese princess Wencheng is also described as an emanation of Avalokiteśvara, which may have “domesticated,” in a sense, the idea of Chinese cultural influence on Tibet.
Sönam Drakpa’s narrative was written shortly after he had spent a great deal of time and effort restoring Tibet’s first monastery, Samyé, which had been destroyed in the struggle over who should rule Tibet in 1353. As Per Sørenson, a scholar who has focused on this text, has said, “What would be more natural, being active at this edifice, a vivid symbol of Tibetan dynastic history, [than] to conceive and effectuate the compilation of a royal genealogy written along ideological lines and focusing on the national tutelary divinity of the Tibetan state?” Sørenson sees this book as testament to Sönam Gyeltsen patriotic sympathies with Tai Situ Jangchup Gyeltsen’s efforts to lead a national renaissance modeled on the earlier Tibetan dynastic empire. What better way to accomplish this than to restate convincingly that the founder of the dynasty was intimately connected to the Buddhist divinity, Avalokite
śvara, who had become so closely associated with Tibet since the later diffusion of Buddhism, after the fall of the empire? And as Sørenson also points out, “By presenting and combining genuine historical data with popular and legendary material, his work secured a fair measure of respect among his fellow historians and an overwhelming popularity among the general audience.” In fact, the narrative remains so popular to this day that many Tibetans treat it as an accurate account of their past history. In this context, it is interesting to note the historiographic gloss at the end of the selection, in which some later editor clarifies that the so-called spontaneously arisen images of Buddhist deities on the rocks were actually later carvings done by craftsmen from Nepal. GT
THE BIRTH OF THE DHARMA-KING SONGTSEN GAMPO FROM THE FOUR RAYS OF LIGHT EMANATING FROM THE BODY OF THE SUBLIME AVALOKITEQVARA
The sublime Avalokiteśvara realized that the time was ripe for the religious conversion of sentient beings in the snowy land of Tibet, and four rays of light emanated from his body. The ray that arose from his right eye reached Nepal and illuminated everything in that land, including the king, Aṃśuvarman, and his nāgā palace in the city of Kathmandu. The ray of light then gathered as one and entered the womb of King Aṃśuvarman’s consort. After nine months had passed and the tenth month had begun, an especially exalted princess was born. None in the whole world was as sublime as she: her skin was white, her complexion tinged with red; from her mouth wafted the scent of yellow sandalwood, and she was accomplished in all fields of knowledge. This then was the Nepalese Princess Tritsün.
The ray of light that emanated from Avalokiteśvara’s left eye reached China and illuminated everything in that land, including the emperor, Taizong, and his palace Trashi Trigo in the imperial residence in Zimshing [Chang’an, present-day Xi’an]. The ray of light then gathered as one and entered the womb of the emperor’s consort. After nine months had passed and when the tenth month had begun, an especially exalted princess was born. None in the whole world was as sublime as she: her skin was blue, her complexion tinged with red; from her mouth came the scent of the blue lotus, and she was versed in all fields of knowledge. This then was the Chinese Princess Kongjo (Ch. Gongzhu).
The ray of light that arose from the mouth of Avalokiteśvara fell upon the precipitous gorge path, where the water rushed against the rocks, in the snowy realm of Tibet and became the aspect of the Dharma Body [Dharmakāya], the mystical antidote that subdues barbarity: this then was the Six-Syllable Mantra [of Avalokiteśvara],
The ray of light that arose from the heart of Avalokite
śvara reached Tibet and illuminated everything in the Land of Snows, including the Jampa Mingyur Ling, the “Palace of Immutable Loving-Kindness,” in Nondra Totsel, and King Namri Songtsen himself. The ray of light then gathered as one and entered the womb of the king’s consort, Driza Tokarma, Princess of Dri, and auspicious signs appeared in the ten directions. After nine months had passed and when the tenth month had begun, in the fire-female-ox year [617], an especially sublime son was born. Upon his head was Amit
ābha, the Buddha of Boundless Light. His hands and feet bore the sign of the Dharma wheel and his hair was heaped up in a spiral coif. The buddhas blessed him, the bodhisattvas made auspicious pronouncements, the deities caused flowers to fall like rain, and the earth shook in six different ways.
Three different perceptions of this event arose: to the Buddhas of the Ten Directions, it appeared that the sublime Avalokiteśvara, having planned the liberation of sentient beings in the snowy land of Tibet on the basis of the power of prayers in former times, shining like a brilliant lamp in the darkness of this wild region, had cast his gaze upon the precious continent. In the perception of the Bodhisattvas of the Ten Stages, it appeared that Avalokiteśvara, with the intention of leading the sentient beings of this wild and snowy realm to the Dharma, manifested himself as a king who would strive to benefit beings by means appropriate to each. In the perception of the common black-headed people, it appeared that a son of unsurpassed wonder had been born to the king.
By the time this royal prince attained his majority, he excelled in the arts, astrology, physical pursuits, and the five fields of knowledge, and he was endowed with many fine qualities. The ministers exclaimed, “This sovereign of ours possesses every quality, and his mind is truly profound [gampo]!” and he therefore became known as Songtsen Gampo. When he was thirteen years old his father died, and he took the throne.
The Dharma-king Songtsen Gampo meditated upon the following question: “Whither in this snowy land should I go to strive for the sake of sentient beings?” and eventually reached this resolution: “As my forefather Lha Totori Nyenshel, the emanation of the sublime Samantabhadra, resided upon the summit of Marpori, the Red Hill, in Lhasa, I shall follow in his footsteps and remove to that place, which is set about with pleasing, auspicious trees, to strive for the benefit of sentient beings.” Having spent one last night at Nondra Totsel, the king and his retinue broke their fast the next morning and traveled as far as Yamtrang, where they unloaded their baggage at the foot of the Precipice of the Six-Syllable Mantra. They sent their animals out to pasture and made camp, and the king bathed himself in the river. When Minister Nachenpo beheld in the water a scintillating multicolored ray of light, he exclaimed, “What is this, O King? It is most wondrous that such a light should appear in the river!” The king replied, “Great Minister, heed well! The Six-Syllable Mantra has appeared upon these rocks in this wild and snowy land. The mantra is the path that leads all beings to Liberation; the collected essence of the thoughts of every buddha; the source of all benefits, happiness, and qualities; the antidote that subdues barbarity; the Dharma that this snowy land deserves; the quintessence; the mystical six syllables that are the words of the Dharmak
āya; the most excellent speech. These lights themselves will benefit the multitude of beings!” As soon as the king made offerings to the rock, varied rays of light arose and struck the cliffs on the opposite side of the gorge. As both sides were linked by rainbow-colored lights, this place was named Jandang, “Rainbow-light.” Images of the deities also appeared spontaneously on the rocks at that time. (Gloss in original: These images of Avalokite
śvara, Khasarpa
ṇa, Hayagr
īva, and so on were carved in relief by Nepalese sculptors at a later date.) Songsten Gampo eventually reached Lhasa, built a palace on Marpori, and dwelled there.
[Sakyapa Sönam Gyaltsen, The Clear Mirror, trans. McComas Taylor and Lama Choedak Yuthok (Ithaca, NY: Snow Lion, 1996), 159–160, with minor alterations based on Per Sørensen, Tibetan Buddhist Historiography: The Mirror Illuminating the Royal Genealogies (Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz, 1994), 159–163. Edited by GB.]
Translators have been instrumental in the spread of the Buddhist tradition and are accorded a place of highest respect in Tibet. Buddhism in Tibet has grown hand in hand with the great collections of literature known as the Kangyur, the Buddha’s word in translation, and the Tengyur, the exegetical treatises in translation, often referred to collectively as the “Tibetan Buddhist Canon.” Their very names portray them as translations, so that anyone who reads a canonical work cannot forget the immense labors of the translators in promoting Buddhist literature in Tibet. By virtue of their arrangement, these canons present a sort of literary history of Indian Buddhism, beginning with the “words of the Buddha” in the form of manuals of monastic conduct, sūtras, and tantras, moving through the commentarial literature and independent treatises of exoteric and esoteric writers, and concluding with a structured presentation of the major fields of learning that would have been shared by any intellectual community in India regardless of religious affiliation. As might be expected in a two-part collection that boasts between 4,500 and 5,200 titles and has developed over a millennium, the Kangyur and Tengyur as a whole were never permanently fixed, though of course some sections remained more stable than others. Considered in this light, the Tibetan collection might be thought of as a “canon” not analogous to the biblical canon (with its relatively small number of approved works) but rather comparable to a literary canon, a collection of “great books,” the authority of which as a whole may be agreed upon by a large majority of concerned intellectuals, yet the details of which are the subject of constant debate as the collection is reproduced.
The most basic division is between the Kangyur, or “The Word in Translation,” and Tengyur, or the “Treatises in Translation,” a distinction made by the thirteenth century at the latest. Every work contained in the Kangyur is in principle the word of the Buddha—although both traditional and contemporary scholarship cast a critical eye upon the literary history of the s
ūtras and tantras. The assignation of the term “Word” (
bka’) to a particular work might better be understood as an attribution of authority than as a statement about its historical provenance, and traditional bibliographers were well aware that this was a fluid category open to criticism and debate. The works contained in the Tengyur are treatises composed by Buddhist writers in the long millennium of Buddhism’s florescence in India—from about the second century until the twelfth century—though there are works composed as late as the seventeenth century in later sections of the Tengyur, as well as translations made in the eighteenth century included in later editions. The Kangyur is further divided into nine sections according to the titles contained within the volumes themselves, though there are numerous and varied ways to group the more than 1,100 texts that make up this first half of the canon.
From the ninth century to the beginning of the fourteenth century, literature from Sanskrit and other Indic languages, as well as from Chinese and Khotanese, had been translated, edited, categorized, compiled, reproduced, read, recited, and worshipped. By the sixteenth century, when the following praise of translators was composed, the golden age of translation had largely passed, yet was certainly not forgotten. KRS
Through the kindness of the incomparable compassion
Of those holy emanated Dharma kings,
In the Noble Land and especially Magadha,
Kashmir, Zahor, Nepal,
China, and so forth, lands where the Sage’s teachings spread,
From the great origin sites of the holy Dharma,
The common arts arose—fine arts, medicine, language, and logic.
Particularly, the many groups of scholars and awareness holders
Who have attained mastery in the inner arts—
The Three Baskets and the Tantric collections—
Came to Tibet,
And trained and liberated limitless fortunate people.
Fluent in the languages of India and Tibet,
Comprehending all points of Sanskrit grammar,
Eyes of the world, the translators,
Searched many regions of the world.
The hard-won wondrous sūtras, tantras, and treatises,
Existing like an ocean in many varieties,
Of language, script, orthography, and terminology,
Of Sanskrit and various regional [languages],
[They] translated them into the script and language of the people [in] our Tibet,
And made them easy to understand.
Further, many particular Indic manuscripts
They checked with scholars and edited them purely.
Working with the methods of explaining and listening
And with those possessing explanatory, experiential, and instructional traditions, they redacted [the scriptures].
So even if all the people of our Tibet were to make offerings fully
Of life, limb, and wealth one thousand times, how could we [make offerings to]
Even a fraction of the ten million billion kindnesses
Of the holy translators and scholars?
Clearing all the darkness of the deluded Tibetan land,
Expanding the appearance of the perfect religion,
All translators and scholars who have come to Tibet,
We always salute you, for we remember your kindness.
[Dpa’ bo II Gtsug lag phreng ba (1504–64/66), Dam pa’i chos kyi ’khor lo bsgyur ba rnams kyi byung ba gsal bar byed pa mkhas pa’i dga’ ston (Beijing: Mi rigs dpe skrun khang, 1986), vol. 1, 509.1–510.2. Trans. KRS.]
The story of the legendary warrior Gesar is often described as the Tibetan national epic and as the longest poem in the world. The evidence provided by the fourteenth-century genealogical record of the Lang clan (Lang poti seru) demonstrates that the epic was taking form by that time, but it had not then, and still has not now, received a definitive redaction. Instead, it has continued to be elaborated as an oral tradition by bards down to the present day, while simultaneously, various versions of the epic have been set down, whether as direct transcriptions of bardic recitations or as literary recastings. In recent centuries some of these versions have been notably influenced by the teachings of Tantric Buddhism.
The location of Gesar’s homeland, Ling, has been the subject of much debate. Current Tibetan and Chinese scholarship locates Ling in the eastern Tibetan region of Dergé County in Sichuan. However, in some versions of the epic, Gesar is said to hail from Trom, “Rome,” so that the name “Trom Gesar” has been explained as derived from the title “Caesar of Rome.” If this is its true source, it is most likely because this title is known to have been used by Turkic kings ruling in the area of what is now Afghanistan, who were allies of the Tibetan empire during the eighth century. Regardless of the origins of the epic, however, it has pervaded the entire Tibetan cultural region. One of the recensions that is relatively exempt from the strong Buddhist influence seen elsewhere is the so-called “Lower Ladakhi Version,” originally set down by a village scribe in Ladakh for the missionary A. H. Francke, who edited the resulting text and published it in 1905. This is a “true oral version” of the Gesar, an example of the epic’s living oral tradition, and thus distinguishable from both non-narrative fragments existing in Gesar song cycles and memorized versions of written texts. Its shamanic roots are visible everywhere, and unlike the literary versions, it lacks distinctly Buddhist elements, such as frame narratives and patron deities borrowed from Buddhist sources, and it is also free of learned idioms derived from literary language. MTK/ETG
CHAPTER 7: A REQUEST
Birth
In the epic’s Prologue, a magical child named Green-One, Three-Faced-Man [Dongsum Mila Ngönmo] is born to a childless old couple. He in turn fathers the eighteen heroes of the land of Ling. The heroes decide to raid Pachi-Peldong Castle, seize its treasures, and divide the riches among themselves. One of them, Palé, Prudent Nobleman, outwits his brothers and takes for himself all the castle’s treasures, with the help of an old woman who foretells the lineage and birth of Gesar. Palé returns home with his loot.
Now Palé, Prudent Nobleman, stayed in Ling as the principal goatherd. One day, when he went with some goats up into the mountains, a white bird emerged from the inside of a white mountain and a black bird emerged from the inside of a black mountain. As he sat watching them, the two birds began to fight. In the morning, as he watched them intently, the black bird was winning. At midday they were equal, and in the evening the white bird appeared to be victorious. Satisfied that the white bird seemed to have won the fight, he went home happy, driving his goats before him.
The next day he took the goats back to the same place, to have a look. This time a white yak emerged from the white mountain and a black yak emerged from the black mountain and, as before, the two animals fought. In the morning, the white yak was winning. At midday they were equal, and in the evening it appeared that the black yak was about to be victorious. Palé thought, “This black yak appears to be an evil spirit. I think I shall slay the black yak.” Thinking thus, he climbed to the top of a high mountain and sang this song:
From a white mountain came forth a white yak!
From a black mountain came forth a black yak!
In our eyes the white yak appears to be a protective deity!
In our eyes the black yak appears to be a devouring fiend!
I think I will kill the black yak.
The wool for my sling was sheared in the time of my grandfather.
It was braided in the time of my father.
It was used during my time, the time of the son!
I have all three types of sling:
The larger stones that I fling will be the size of horse bellies.
The middle-sized stones that I fling will be the size of yak bellies.
The smaller stones that I fling will be the size of goat bellies.
As for the even smaller stones that I fling, they shall be ones that sting.
I shall cast a stone at the right horn of the black yak.
I shall render the right horn into eighteen pieces.
I shall offer one piece to Gyapzhin, the Lord of the Gods.
I shall offer a piece to the Mother of the King of the Middle World.
I shall offer a piece to the Serpent King of the Netherworld.
I shall offer a piece to the Father Deity.
I shall offer a piece to the Mother Goddess.
I shall offer a piece to all of us, the eighteen heroes of Ling.
I shall offer a piece to the Chief of Ling Castle.
I shall offer a piece to the Yellow Mountains of the Yellow Ones.
I shall offer a piece to the Turquoise Mountain of the Blue Ones.
I shall offer a piece to the spring Tsangya.
I shall place a piece before the Plain of Wild Yams.
I shall offer a piece to Pelmö Atak.
I shall offer a piece to the Ford of Fords.
I shall place a piece in the hunting grounds of Soaring Inner Delight.
I shall offer a piece to father Tönpa and mother Ngönmo.
I shall offer a piece to crystal consort Driguma.
I shall offer a piece to the Dem Castle of Dem-Dem.
And I shall keep a piece for myself, Palé, Prudent Nobleman!
Thus he spoke, and cast his slingshot, and the black yak died.
Now the black yak happened to be the demon Churu-lugu, and the white yak happened to be Gyapzhin, the Lord of the Gods. If Palé had not killed the black yak on that day, the demon Churu-lugu would have successfully killed Gyapzhin, the Lord of the Gods.
Then a child about two feet tall emerged from the white mountain, came up to Palé, and said, “Prudent Nobleman, you have become my benefactor. Had you not been here today, I would have been killed by the demon. I shall give you a great reward. I shall give you half of my palace, half of my kingdom, whatever riches you desire!”
Palé said, “I do not want a reward. I did not kill the black yak for a reward. I did not know that you were Gyapzhin. Nevertheless, good has come of it. They say that you have three sons, Dönyö, Dönden, and Döndrup. If you will grant us, the leaderless people of Ling, one of your sons to be our Chief of Ling, then I shall be happy.” Thus he spoke.
Then the Lord of the Gods, Gyapzhin, said: “Alas, one son is my right eye to me. The other is my left eye. The last is my very heart. Nevertheless, you, Prudent Nobleman, have saved me, and I cannot say no. I shall go and speak to my children in the heavens, in the Land of the Gods. In seven days I shall give you good news.” Thus spoke the Lord of the Gods, and then fell silent.
Then the Lord of the Gods, Gyapzhin, went off into the heavens, and Palé returned home, driving his goats.
CHAPTER 15: GESAR IS BORN IN THE LAND OF MEN
Gyapzhin is reluctant to send his youngest son, Döndrup, to the land of Men. Palé finally must go to heaven to demand that Gyapzhin honor his promise. Döndrup, disguised as a bird, conducts a brief reconnaissance mission to the land of Ling, then prepares himself for his incarnation. In heaven, Gyapzhin then instructs his daughter to overturn the small bowl of milk that holds Döndrup’s spirit. When she does so, Döndrup dies in heaven and storm clouds gather and move toward earth. Shortly thereafter a large hailstone falls into the bowl of Gokzang-lhamo, wife of Friday’s Gift, Born of the Ram, firstborn of the eighteen heroes of Ling. She breaks and eats the hailstone and becomes pregnant with Gesar.
Now when the day of the child’s birth arrived, he spoke from inside his mother’s womb, and said:
O, a son is to be born to this mother!
O, a son is to be born to Gokzang-lhamo!
I should be born on a three-peaked mountain.
Erect a three-stoned, three-beamed room upon a three-peaked mountain.
String coral to make beams for the ceiling.
Caulk the spaces in between them with pearls.
Then, press buttered barley flour over them for a roof!
At this, his mother climbed a mountain and there gathered three large stones. Then, crouched over them, she waited to give birth. Once again the child in her womb sang to her:
I am not a stag to be born on a three-peaked mountain!
Born I shall be, but I should be born at the junction of three valleys.
Erect a three-stoned, three-beamed room at the junction of three valleys!
String coral to make beams for the ceiling.
Caulk the spaces in between them with pearls.
Then, press buttered barley flour over them for a roof!
At this, the mother went to the junction of three valleys and there gathered three large stones. Then she crouched over them. Again the child sang to her:
I am not a fox to be born where three valleys meet!
Born I shall be, but I should be born on the banks of a great river!
Erect a three-stoned, three-beamed room on the banks of a river!
String coral to make beams for the ceiling.
Caulk the spaces in between them with pearls.
Then, press buttered barley flour over them for a roof!
Then the mother rose and went to the bank of a great river. There she settled, and again her unborn child sang to her:
I am not a she-fish to be born on a riverbank!
Born I shall be, but I should be born in the middle of a wood!
Erect a three-stone, three-beamed room in the middle of a wood!
String coral to make beams for the ceiling.
Caulk the spaces in between them with pearls.
Then, press buttered barley flour over them for a roof!
The mother rose again, went to the middle of a wood, and settled down. The child sang to her again:
I am not some lesser goddess, to be born in a wood!
Born I shall be, but I should be born behind the door of a small room.
As the mother went and crouched behind the door, the child sang once again:
I am not a hatchling, that I should be born behind a door!
Born I shall be, but I should be born on a divan painted with lotus flowers!
When the mother went to the divan, the child sang again:
Born I shall be, but I shall be born from the middle of your head!
I shall be born by splitting open your skull!
Born I shall be, but I shall be born from between your ribs!
I shall be born by cutting open your ribs!
Born I shall be, but I shall be born from the soles of your feet!
I shall be born by cutting open your feet!
Thus he spoke, and delayed his birth. His mother grew alarmed.
Finally the unborn child instructed her properly: “Now you may truly prepare the appropriate festivities, because many things will be born with me. You must treasure all of them.”
At this the sun and moon were born and flew up into the heavens. The great wild goat was born and went up into the rocks. The turquoise-maned lion was born and went up into the glaciers. The great brown wild yak was born and went up into the high pastures. The king of the birds was born and flew up into the mountains. The she-fish was born and went up into the lakes. The little bird was born and flew up into the trees. And everything else destined to be born to Gokzang-lhamo was also born that day.
When all of these things had been born, Gokzang-lhamo gave birth to a lizardlike creature that had a large head and a thin neck. She put some fine barley flour in its mouth to keep it from making any sound, and pressed it under her wrist.
Then Ané-kurman, having heard rumors of these births, said, “O Gokzang-lhamo, to what kind of offspring did you give birth?” Gokzang-lhamo replied, “I did not give birth to anything useful! Many animals were born, but they all fled. After that, a lizard was born. I have pressed it here under my wrist.”
At this Ané-kurman, scolding her, picked up her wrist. The lizard under it had been transformed into Victoriously Booted Gesar of Ling!
FROM CHAPTER 23: GESAR TRICKS THE MAIDEN DRIGUMA
By agreement among the eighteen heroes of Ling, the beautiful and highborn maiden Driguma is to be married to one of them, Sotung, Short-Tempered, Chief of the Hawks [Trego Trutung]. Gesar is jealous and wants the maiden for himself. Gesar lies in wait, catches Sotung in midriver, and gives him a thrashing. Gesar claims that he did not recognize the great hero and is forgiven. Thereafter Gesar finds Driguma and her handmaidens searching for tubers. He agrees to let her have a bite of his tuber cake, but does so in a way that causes her great embarrassment. She implores him not to publicize the incident, and in exchange promises to invite him to a small celebration [Isün].
The next day young Gesar found the site of the Isün and went to the house where Driguma and all her maidservants were gathered. He hid above the door. Driguma said, “Ladies! If we are all here, shut the door tightly, otherwise the lowborn beggar boy will come in and pollute us.”
Gesar heard this and said, “Greetings, ladies! Here I am!” Driguma was embarrassed and said, “O, you have arrived! We were just saying that we must be sure to invite the beggar boy!” “So you said,” he replied, “as the daughter of noble parents you are very adroit, my lady!” And then they began to play at Isün.
Later, the maidservants asked Driguma for permission to sleep. One after another they fell asleep, and young Gesar left.
Now a neighbor had an ass that was very pregnant. Young Gesar gave the ass a swift kick, which made it instantly drop a colt. He immediately cut off the head of the colt and took it to the room in which the maidens were sleeping. He placed the head of the colt in the bed of the girl at the very end of the row and left the room. Once outside, he covered the windows and any cracks in the doors and holes in the walls of the room, so that it was completely dark. Because of this, the maiden and her girls thought it was not yet light and continued to sleep. When the sun rose young Gesar, the beggar boy, uncovered all the windows and cracks.
He burst into the room and said, “O you lazy women! Are you still asleep? It is almost noon! Have you no chores to do? Even though I’m just a beggar boy, I have already been all over the village, bought flour, and had my breakfast!” At this they were embarrassed, and one by one, starting at the end of the row, they began to get up.
Now the head of the ass colt lay in the bed of the last girl, and as she got up she noticed it. She was ashamed, and placed it in the bed of the girl next to her. Each girl did the same until the colt head reached the maiden’s bed. The girl next to her placed the head near the lower part of Driguma’s body. Gesar the beggar boy watched until they were all awake.
When the maiden Driguma awoke, the colt’s head fell out from between her legs. At this the beggar boy shouted, “Ah ha! Today Driguma has given birth to the head of an ass! If I meet men, I will tell them all about this! If I meet dogs, I will tell them all about this!”
Driguma was embarrassed, and said, “O lowborn beggar boy! Don’t shout like this! Soon, on an auspicious day, I will give an engagement chang [strong barley ale] to choose a husband. On that day, I will serve you chang as well!” So they agreed that she would serve him chang on that day, and left it at that. However, just before he left, he cut off one of the colt’s ears and kept it.
When the auspicious day arrived, a crier went through the land calling out: “The maiden Driguma is serving an engagement chang today! O heroes of Ling, come and join the celebrations!”
When they all gathered together they gave Sotung a golden throne to sit on. All the other heroes sat on thrones of shell and turquoise. Young Gesar, the lowborn beggar boy, sat at the head of all the beggars, on a throne made of wooden planks.
Inside, Driguma filled the pitcher Chief of the Serpents with chang. She kneaded a nine-level torma [dough sculpture] and carried it out to the gathered guests. She wore a white silk gown with a red silk sash.
She came before hero Sotung and sang:
Today, this auspicious day, I myself,
This girl will pour the engagement chang!
Today the stars are auspicious!
The maiden Driguma will pour the chang!
I have kneaded a nine-level torma and I carry it
On top of the pitcher Chief of the Serpents.
The pitcher Chief of the Serpents is filled
With this chang of white barley.
And this
chang of white barley I pour for you,
O Nobleman!
Lift up this pitcher
Without using your fingers.
Empty it
Without it touching your lotus-flower lips.
Drink it
Without it touching your silken tonsils.
Swallow it
Without it touching the insides of your golden throat.
Seize this pitcher with mind
And then lower it back to the ground.
Empty this pitcher brimming with chang
And set it down by the pot brimming with tea.
So she sang, and poured the chang for hero Sotung.
Just as Sotung took the pitcher in his hand, he saw the lowborn beggar boy who had thrashed him in the river. This unnerved him, and the pitcher fell to the ground. This completely ruined the offering, so the maiden Driguma hurried indoors, kneaded another torma, and refilled the pitcher with chang.
This time she did not offer chang to Sotung, but poured the chang for Palé on his turquoise throne. Palé and all the other heroes said to Driguma, “Honorable maiden! No man here can possibly do what you ask. We cannot drink your engagement chang in this way.” And none of them would touch the chang.
Then Driguma passed by the lowborn beggar boy, pretending not to see him. “Honorable maiden!” he whispered. “Look here!” And he showed her the colt’s ear. At this, the maiden returned to where he sat and poured the engagement chang for him, singing:
A wooden seat
Is a beggar’s throne.
On this throne of sticks sits
Lowborn beggar boy!
Drink without holding the pitcher
In your coarse hands.
Drink without touching it
As if it is a chamber pot.
Drink without tasting it
With your rough tongue.
Drink without letting it
Touch your scrawny throat.
Seize it with your poisonous mind
And set it down again on the ground.
Drink the brimming chang
And then set it down by the brimming tea.
Thus Driguma placed the pitcher Chief of the Serpents in the hands of young Gesar, the lowborn beggar boy. Seeking the gods’ favor, he sang:
Hail to the nine gods all born at once!
Grant me your help today.
Hail to the nine serpent gods all born at once!
Grant me your help today.
Hail to Gyapzhin, Lord of the Gods and the heavens!
Grant me your help today.
Hail to Ama-kyapdün, Protective Mother, Guardian of the Middle World!
Grant me your help today.
Hail to the Serpent King of the Underworld!
Grant me your help today.
Hail to the Divine Father!
Grant me your help today.
Hail to the Divine Mother, Ané-kurman!
Grant me your help today.
Thus he sought the gods’ favor.
Young Gesar offered a prayer and then chanted, “Empty the brimming chang and set it down by the brimming tea!” He struck the pitcher with his dog-toothed stick and sent it skyward. He drank the chang from the hovering pitcher, and then it dropped down next to the pitcher of brimming tea. At this all the beggars jeered, “The maiden Driguma’s hand has been won by our lowborn beggar boy!” And they burst out laughing.
Now the maiden’s father, Tönpa, and her mother, Ngönmo, had been waiting upon golden thrones draped with white silk. When they learned that the lowborn beggar boy had won their daughter’s hand, they put away the white silk and draped black cloth over their golden thrones. Then on the floor they spread out a ragged carpet, turned it upside down, and sat down on it.
Now all the beggars brought young Gesar, on a wooden palanquin, into the house of Driguma’s parents. As he entered, he saw the parents sitting on the upside-down carpet, and so he sat with his back turned toward them. At this the parents said, “You beggar! You lowborn boy! How dare you insult us by turning your back to us!” Young Gesar replied, “If your carpet has turned its back, so should your guest!”
The parents put a meal of coarse barley flour before him. The father looked away. The mother stared at the floor. The maiden Driguma poked at the embers in the hearth.
[The base text is A. H. Francke, Lower Ladakhi Version of the Kesar Saga (Calcutta: Asiatic Society of Bengal, 1905). Siddiq Wahid, “A Lower Ladakhi Version of the Gling-rgyal-lham-kesar: An Annotated Translation and Introduction” (Ph.D. diss., Harvard, 1981) was the basis for the present selections. Trans. Siddiq Wahid and Elizabeth T. Gray, Jr.]
The polemics of the Gugé king Yeshé-ö and others, as we have seen earlier (
chapter 6), were in particular aimed at transgressive practices associated with some of the tantric traditions that had become current in postimperial Tibet. The Nyingmapa lineages often bore the brunt of these assaults, so it comes as no surprise that the Nyingmapa counteroffensive was sometimes characterized by an insistence upon moral excellence as a Nyingmapa hallmark. This is the case in the present selections extracted from a twelfth-century “rediscovered treasure” recounting the life of the imperial-period culture hero Padmasambhava.
As described earlier (
chapter 5), Padmasambhava appears to have been a specialist in tantric rites of exorcism, who played a role in the foundation of Samyé monastery and later developed a following, particularly in the southern Tibetan regions bordering what are today Nepal and Bhutan, that was devoted to the cult of the tutelary deity of the “Adamant Spike,” Vajrak
īla. By the eleventh century, however, the Nyingmapa lineages, and often others as well, began to regard him as the “Precious Guru” (Guru Rinpoché) of the Tibetan people as a whole, who before leaving Tibet had paved the way for future enlightenment by concealing treasures (
terma)—in the form of statues and ritual objects but also, and above all, books of legends, tantric rituals, and techniques of meditation—to be revealed by designated discoverers (
tertön), the reincarnations of his closest Tibetan disciples. One of the first and most prolific such figures was Nyangrel Nyima Özer (1124–92), believed to have been an emanation of the Tsenpo Tri Songdetsen. Nyangrel’s treasures in fact embodied a vision of imperial Tibet as an enlightened realm and became an important template for later rulers, especially the Dalai Lamas, who sought to recapture for themselves something of the spiritual glory attributed to the distant Tibetan past.
The text reproduced here is drawn from one of Nyangrel’s most esteemed treasures, an extended hagiographical account of Padmasambhava entitled The Copper Isle Recension of the Testament of Padmasambhava, “Copper Isle” being the name of the monastery where the text was discovered. Here, after completing his mission in Tibet, the Precious Guru now confers upon his major Tibetan disciples his final words of counsel. MTK
MASTER PADMA GIVES HIS LAST WORDS TO THE KINGS OF TIBET
At the time Master Padma planned to depart for the southwestern continent to tame the rākṣasa demons, Prince Mutik Tsenpo and other royalty entreated him in these words: “Master, as you intend to leave for India and will not remain here any longer, how should the Tibetan kings of future generations behave?”
Master Padma then sang this song to the kings of Tibet:
Kings of Tibet, possessors of merit,
Do not equalize your royal class with your subjects.
A king should not engage in the actions of a commoner,
But remain with a dignified and balanced poise.
Benevolently, ask advice from the inner cabinet ministers,
While also being decisive in tasks and speaking unrestrained.
Do not listen to advice that will jeopardize the country.
Be gentle and cordial and never ruthless.
Be wise when issuing a decree or giving gifts.
Do not bestow too many distinctions—be moderate.
Ministers who are greedy and unintelligent
Pose the greatest danger of destroying the fortress of the country.
When the ministers take control of the country,
Be very careful with funds and avoid evil deeds.
If the country degenerates, the kingdom is lost.
Do not be gullible or easily influenced.
Ignore half of what you hear and remain undaunted.
Then the kingdom will last for a long time.
If out of desire for queens and other women
You grow too fond and attached,
You will be overpowered by your emotions and lose control.
Do not place your trust in unreliable people.
To do so brings no success but may cost your life.
Maintain peace with your outer servants and sustain the inner attendants with food.
Give up prejudice; be unshakable and fair toward all.
Constructing temples, shrine halls, and stūpas is all of great merit,
But in the end they become the cause for misdeeds.
It is better to pay respect to the shrines that are already built.
Be correct when translating the sacred Dharma.
Be decisive and hold the Buddha’s words to be authentic.
Treasure the Three Jewels as dear as your eyes.
The different vehicles each have their own approach,
And through any one of them the fruition can be attained;
Yet, give higher priority to the vajra vehicle of Secret Mantra.
Too many glamorous dwellings cause the risk of disaster.
Be very steady and scrutinize well.
Some scholars and translators will be false and lack discernment.
Do not trust them; there is the danger of deceit.
Attacks from gongpo spirits will threaten to destroy the kingdom.
Do not be fickle but remain steadfast and dignified.
Queens, you are the foundation for the heirs to the kingdom.
Be open-minded, generous, and patient.
Maintain a good diet and cleanliness of hands and face.
Keep propriety and oversee your possessions.
Avoid distraction and bridle your conduct.
Do not talk excessively but with a gentle and courteous manner.
Take care of your outer and inner attendants nicely and with grace.
Bring your children and consorts to the Dharma.
When pious in this life you will attain the realms of gods and humans in the following.
I, Padmākara, am now taking leave,
Whether you live in the present or will appear in the future,
Keep this in your hearts, kings of Tibet.
Thus he gave instructions.
This was the twenty-fourth chapter in the immaculate life story of the Lotus-Born Master, telling how Master Padma gave his last words to the kings of Tibet.
MASTER PADMA GIVES HIS LAST WORDS TO THE MINISTERS OF TIBET
Then Trisang Yaplhak and other ministers entreated Padmasambhava, “Master, as you intend to leave for India and will not remain here any longer, how should the ministers of future generations behave?”
In reply to this, Master Padma sang:
Everyone who acts as the minister of a king
Should serve the ruler with devoted body and speech.
Attend the queens as your inner duty
And rule the outer kingdom by the Dharma.
Be kind to the subjects and affectionately care for their well-being.
A minister’s purpose is to counsel the king.
Keep peace in the country while enforcing the law rigorously.
Establish shrines for the Three Jewels and found Dharma centers for the Mahāyāna.
Keeping the army on guard externally, protect the palace, the country, and the government.
Recognize love and hatred and differentiate between good and evil.
Never be unprepared, but anticipate and avoid mistakes.
Afterward do not regret; it is too late to change.
When you have acted with forethought, you can be free from regret even if the outcome is bad.
You are a religious minister if you abide by the Dharma, have faith, and venerate the Three Jewels.
You are a wise minister if you advise with intelligence and good judgment.
You are a brave minister if you courageously, carefully, and adeptly overcome enmity.
You are an ingenious minister if you do not harbor hostility, but act cleverly and skillfully in politics.
The good and evil of the country depends upon the quality of its ministers.
Use careful scrutiny and guard the kingdom.
I, Padmākara, am now taking leave,
Whether you live in the present or will appear in the future,
Ministers of future generations, keep this in your hearts.
Thus he gave instructions.
This was the twenty-fifth chapter in the immaculate life story of the Lotus-Born Master, telling how Master Padma gave his last words to the ministers of Tibet.
MASTER PADMA GIVES HIS LAST WORDS TO THE DHARMA TEACHERS OF TIBET
Kawa Peltsek, Chokro Lü Gyeltsen, and other Tibetan Dharma teachers then asked, “Master, as you intend to leave for India and will not remain here any longer, how should the Tibetan Dharma teachers of future generations behave?”
Master Padma replied:
Spiritual teachers of Tibet who are educated and
endowed with good qualities,
You should carefully study reading and writing,
listen to teachings, and reflect upon them
In the presence of a learned and accomplished Master.
Thoroughly train in all the teachings of the different vehicles,
The Tripiṭaka and the outer and inner Secret Mantra.
Train also adequately in the five sciences
In order to study all the topics of knowledge.
When you become an object of other people’s respect
And get involved in the distraction of meritorious deeds,
Abandon pride, conceit, and jealousy
And do not engage in acts of self-aggrandizement.
Act according to the words that you preach.
Conduct yourself according to the Dharma and in harmony with all people.
Cast away the misdeed of envy
Such as declaring, “I am learned and he is not.”
Teach whoever wants to learn
The particular Dharma teaching of his interest.
Serve your master and teachers
With respectful body, speech, and mind.
Offer whatever you possess, wealth, food, and so forth.
Do not brag about your Dharma practice,
But ask and depend on those who are learned.
Do not pretend greatness, becoming like an empty drum.
Instead, be full of the virtues of the Dharma.
Give up rivalry with your Dharma friends.
When you have acquired even the tiniest bit of knowledge,
Do not be conceited and ambitious,
Since the main point is to cherish everyone with compassion.
Don the armor of the four immeasurables.
Unless you tame your mind with the Dharma,
How can you possibly tame the minds of others?
Be learned and control your emotions.
I, Padmakara, am now taking leave,
Whether you live in the present or will appear in the future,
Dharma teachers of future generations, keep this in your hearts.
Thus he gave instructions.
This was the twenty-seventh chapter in the immaculate life story of the Lotus-Born Master, telling how Master Padma gave his last words to the Dharma teachers of Tibet.
[Eric Pema Kunsang, trans., The Lotus-Born: The Life of Padmasambhava (Boudhanath: Rangjung Yeshe, 1993), 155–159, 163–165.]
The source of this selection is a further cycle of revelations unearthed by Nyangrel Nyima Özer (1124–96) that had been deposited, according to tradition, for future generations in the eighth century by the Indian Buddhist saint Padmasambhava. Passages such as these were anthologized in later collections of revelations as well. In the present version of the myth, Padmasambhava highlights in quick succession his wondrous origins, his early teaching career among the gods and demons, and his meeting with the Tibetan noblewoman Yeshé Tsogyel, who served as the mouthpiece of Padmasambhava’s teachings in many revelations. She is characterized in these works as his devoted student and expert scribe, as Nyangrel’s revelation makes clear: “I, Tsogyel, an ignorant woman, served the emanated master for a long time. On different occasions, he gave advice on Dharma practice that I persistently retained in my perfect recall, collected, and wrote down for the sake of future generations.” In the second half of the passage Padmasambhava gives one of his many teachings on Buddhist morals, in which ten pieces of advice are paired with evocative imagery. KRS
PADMASAMBHAVA’S ORIGINS
Namo Guru [Hail to the Master]!
The great master Padmākara was born from a lotus flower, untainted by a physical womb. He underwent various types of ascetic practices and finally attained the Knowledge-Holder level of life mastery and there remains, having interrupted the river of birth and death.
He taught the 84,000 doors to the Dharma. He understands the tongues of the six classes of beings and of the eight classes of gods and demons. With his Brahm
ā-like voice he brings benefit to all beings.
His mind possesses the realization of total omniscience. He has understood the nature that transcends arising and ceasing and he does not divide the nature of things with partiality.
As all required qualities arise from himself, he is the foundation and source of everything eminent. He is skilled in the means of taming all beings.
His activity invokes the minds of the sugatas and he controls the life force and heart of the eight classes of gods and demons.
Padmakara took birth on an island in the ocean and ruled the kingdom of Uḍḍīyāna. He practiced in the eight charnel grounds.
Having undergone ascetic practices in India, through his compassion he came to Tibet. He fulfilled the wishes of the king of Tibet and established the kingdoms of India and Tibet in peace.
This kind master accepted as his spiritual consort me, Lady Tsogyel, the princess of Kharchen, from the time I was thirteen years of age. I was a mere girl who had faith, great compassion, an altruistic frame of mind, constancy, and sharp intelligence.
During the one hundred and eleven years the master remained in Tibet, I served him and pleased him. Without exception, he bestowed upon me the entire extract of his oral instructions, the essence of his mind. During this time, I collected and committed to writing all the teachings that he gave and kept them concealed as precious treasures.
TEN FOUNDATIONS OF TRAINING
The master said: When practicing the Dharma, you must train perfectly in the ten foundations of training.
The lady asked: What are these ten foundations of training?
The master said: You must resolve through the view, gaining understanding of all the teachings, like the garuḍa bird soaring in the skies.
You must find certainty through the conduct, without being intimidated by anything whatsoever, like an elephant entering the water.
You must practice through the meditative states, clearing away the darkness of ignorance, like lighting a lamp in a dark room.
You must accomplish the aim through the instructions, liberating all phenomena in your nature, like finding a wish-fulfilling jewel.
You must progress gradually through the empowerments, being free from the fear of falling into saṃsāra, like a prince ascending the royal throne.
You must keep the basis through the commitments, not letting any of your actions be wasted, like fertile ground.
You must liberate your being through learning, becoming adept in all aspects of the Dharma, like a noble steed freed from its chains.
You must compare all sources, understanding all the philosophical schools of the Dharma, like a bee seeking a hive.
You must condense them into a single point, understanding that all the numerous teachings are of one taste, like a trader adding together his profits.
You must reach eminence in knowledge, understanding clearly and distinctly the meaning of all the teachings, like arriving at the summit of Mount Sumeru.
The people of Tibet who desire to be learned without training themselves in these points are not learned in the essential meaning, but become practitioners with much sectarianism. This is due to the fault of not having become adept in these ten foundations of training.
[Yeshe Tsogyal, Dakini Teachings: Padmasambhava’s Oral Instructions to the Lady Tsogyal, trans. Eric Pema Kunsang (Boudhanath: Rangjung Yeshe, 1999) 59–61, 100.]